Secrets on a Train – available for pre-order

Now that I have an Evil Day Job (it’s only evil because it steals writing time from me, other than that, it’s perfectly fine 🙂 ) I commute to work. My husband drives me to the train station, and I take the train from there to Helsingborg, where my office is located. I spend 35-ish minutes on the train, and most of the time, I sit here:

This four-seater is located in the silent compartment on the train, and most of the time, it’s free when I board the train, so I can snag it before everyone else climbs on board. I want to avoid listening to other people’s conversation that early in the morning; I just want peace and quiet.

And Valentin and Runar in Secrets on a Train are the same, so it’s in the silent compartment of the train they meet. And the four-seater in the picture above is where I imagine most of the story is taking place.

It’s a short (app 9900 words) flirty story with two strangers who meet in the silent car and converse by writing on paper, or in the notes app on the phone. I’m calling it a modern epistolary story since most of the MCs’ conversation is written, even if they’re sitting across from each other on a train.

Does that sound like something you’d be interested in? If yes, it’s now up for pre-order at JMS Books.

pre-order secrets on a train

It’s the fountain pens that capture Valentin’s attention on the morning commute, not the perfectly imperfect man who spends his train rides using them. Not his pinstriped suits, his chin-length hair, or his perpetually raised eyebrow. But one morning when the man strikes up a written conversation, Valentin gives up all pretense. It’s not just the pens. It’s the man. Runar.

The conversations continue, and the men get to know each other better, sharing secrets they’ve never told another soul. The connection is powerful, growing stronger with every encounter, every scribbled conversation, every scorching look. But can secrets shared on a train be enough to build a forever?

M/M contemporary / 9889 words

Coming on February 5

Coming Soon: Flowers Under My Pillow

Cornflower, dandelion, forget-me-not, buttercup, daisy, cow parsley, and red clover: the seven different kinds of flowers that Frode picks every Midsummer.

Midsummer is a big deal in Sweden. It’s our second most popular holiday, after Christmas, and we have a lot of traditions surrounding it: maypoles and dancing, herring and boiled new potatoes, snaps (a small shot of spiced alcohol taken with a meal) and strawberry cream cake. (If you’re curious about hos Swedes celebrate Midsummer, check out the Swedish Midsummer for Dummies video here, it’s fun and accurate 😁) It’s the day of parties (in non-pandemic times) and weddings (me and the hubby got married on Midsummer) and worrying about the weather, because we want to celebrate it outside, but the June weather in Sweden is notoriously unreliable.

There’s also an old folklore belief saying that unmarried women who pick seven kinds of flowers and put them underneath their pillows, will dream of the man they’re going to marry.

And that folklore belief is what inspired my upcoming book, Flowers Under My Pillow.

I’ve tried to imbue the story with the magic of Midsummer while still keeping it contemporary. I wanted to capture the spirit of the holiday without including every little tradition. But most of all, I just wanted to tell a romantic story about two men meeting in an unusual way and throwing caution to the wind because they want to believe in True Love. I hope I’ve been successful in my endeavors.

Release day is June 26th, and today I’m sharing the blurb, the cover, and a pre-order link with you.

Smiling brown eyes. A dark beard. Dandelions. Sunny, happy dandelions.

For thirty years, Frode’s had the same dream. Every Midsummer’s Eve since he was a kid accompanying his sister to pick flowers to put under his pillow, he’s dreamed of the same man. A dream he never shares with anyone, that makes him wish for impossible things…like true love.

“It’s you.”

Then one Midsummer’s Eve, the man of Frode’s dreams stands before him in the flesh. Both men recognize each other despite never having met in real life. Both men are instantly drawn to each other and want to know more.

“Who are you, Viljar? Are you even real?”

Their questions are many but do the whys and the hows matter? Or should they allow the Midsummer magic that brought them together to lead the way into each other’s arms? Into each other’s hearts?

Traditional Swedish folklore tells you that if you pick seven kinds of flowers in silence and put them under your pillow on Midsummer’s Eve, you’ll dream of the man you’ll marry.

pre-order @ JMS books

Coming Soon: So Far Away

Hello everyone! I’m sorry about my absence; it feels like I haven’t been here forever. I know it might not seem that way to you, because I’ve scheduled posts in advance to keep this place from being empty. But I’ve been busy with the move so I haven’t posted as much as I want to. But I’ve moved now, so hopefully things will be back to normal around here.

Because of this, I haven’t spoken much about my upcoming release, but today’s the day. 🙂

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Some months back, I read an article in a major Swedish newspaper about a married couple being separated because of the pandemic. They were elderly, and one of them lived in a nursing home but the other didn’t, and because of restrictions, they weren’t allowed into the same room. They could only see each other through the window and they wrote each other letters and they were both sad because they’d been married for decades.

That story made me tear up, but it also sparked a slew of questions in my head, questions that led me to writing this story. It’s not a story about an old married couple; it’s the story about Zakarias who’s infected with a virus and his fiancé ICU nurse Julian and how they cope with being separated.

Caveat: while this story is definitely inspired by the covid-19 pandemic, the virus in my story is a figment of my imagination and not covid-19.

Engaged couple Zakarias and Julian are convinced nothing can separate them…until a global pandemic hits. Zakarias catches the virus with mild symptoms and isolates in the couple’s guest house. The few meters dividing them might as well be the moon as he watches Julian, an ICU nurse, work himself to the bone, unable to support him the way he needs. Frustration and worry build as the weeks pass. Will Zakarias be declared healthy before Julian burns out?

M/M Contemporary / 14 567 words

pre-order so far away @ JMS books

8 Days Until Wake Him With a Kiss

Have you preordered my short story Wake Him With a Kiss yet? If not, now’s the time! 🙂

It’s a very short (about 7K words) story about Amos, a tattoo artist, and Lo, who’s about to get his very first tattoo to celebrate an important moment in his life; him coming out to his family. He wants a rainbow tattoo on his wrist and he’s researched artists and loves Amos’s work.

I googled a lot of rainbow tattoos to use as inspiration, and found one that stood out to me. Want to see it?

I really love this tattoo, and it’s what Amos makes for Lo (except for the cloud, it’s not included in Lo’s tattoo). I could imagine getting it myself, if it wasn’t for my super sensitive eczema skin. 🙂

Excerpt:

While he was talking, I finished the sketch and I turn it to him so he can see. His hand flies up and covers his mouth and he doesn’t take his eyes off it. “It’s perfect,” he breathes.

It’s a rainbow like he asked for, but instead of neat, perfect lines, they are a little messy, as though I’ve painted them with my watercolors. The colors are intense and float into each other in some places, while they are more saturated and precise in others. The red doesn’t go all the way to the end of the rainbow, and the indigo is just a thin line at the start but swells out and runs into the blue at the end.

It’s stunning, if I may say so myself. Completely inspired by the man in front of me.

“Yeah?” I ask.

Lo nods. “Yes. It’s beautiful. Exactly right.”

When Lo is dragged into the tattoo shop by his bossy cousin, he steals everyone’s attention. The big man is afraid of needles but wants a tattoo to celebrate an important moment in his life. And he wants Amos to do it.

Tattoo artist Amos is mesmerized by Lo from the moment he lays eyes on him. He’s huge but kind, strong but gentle, and his freckles…God, his freckles.

They hit it off immediately, but Lo grows nervous as the big moment approaches. Will Lo flee from the tattoo machine before they have time to get to know each other? Before they have the time to see if the sparks will turn into something more?

M/M Contemporary / 6926 words

Pre-order now: 

JMS Books (20% off pre-orders) :: Amazon :: UBL

Wake Him With a Kiss: cover reveal and pre-order link

Today, I’m showing off the cover to my upcoming short story Wake Him With a Kiss. There will also be a pre-order link, and as usual, all pre-orders are 20% off.

Are you ready?

*drumroll*

When Lo is dragged into the tattoo shop by his bossy cousin, he steals everyone’s attention. The big man is afraid of needles but wants a tattoo to celebrate an important moment in his life. And he wants Amos to do it.

Tattoo artist Amos is mesmerized by Lo from the moment he lays eyes on him. He’s huge but kind, strong but gentle, and his freckles…God, his freckles.

They hit it off immediately, but Lo grows nervous as the big moment approaches. Will Lo flee from the tattoo machine before they have time to get to know each other? Before they have the time to see if the sparks will turn into something more?

M/M Contemporary / 6926 words

pre-order @ jms books

Isn’t it gorgeous?? 😍 And would you like an excerpt?

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Lo looks around and leans close until his mouth is next to my ear. “I’m scared shitless of needles.” When he pulls back, his face is flaming red as though he’s ashamed of his confession.

“Hey. Come with me.” I lead him to the tattoo chair and nudge him until he sits. Perched on the edge as though he fears it’ll grow teeth and eat him.

I sit and roll my chair close. “Lots of people are afraid of needles. You’re not the first person to sit in this chair and be nervous. And you’re not gonna be the last.”

“I know. Intellectually.” His smile is gone now, and I’d do anything to get it back.

“But your heart is still racing?”

He nods. “It seems stupid to expose yourself needlessly to something you’re afraid of.”

“Maybe. Unless the fear is crippling and hinders your everyday life. Then it might be a good thing to desensitize yourself to it?”

“Yeah. You’re right.”

“And everyone is scared of something.”

“What are you scared about?” he asks.

“A lot of things. I’m scared I’ll go blind so I can’t keep doing my art anymore. I’m scared to hurt my hand in a way that would make it impossible for me to hold a tattoo machine or a paintbrush ever again. I’m scared of being alone for the rest of my life.”

That makes him scowl at me. “Why would you be alone for the rest of your life?”

“Because I’m a grumpy bastard?”

“We’ve already established that you’re not.”

“You haven’t met me before I’ve had my first cup of coffee in the morning.”

“True. I’ll let you know the verdict when I have.” As I hoped, the back-and-forth smoothes the tense lines on his face, and by now the corners of his mouth are curled upward. I take his hand, gently, so he knows he can break free whenever he wants and guide it to the armrest.

“Oh-ho? So you’re going to make sure I’m telling the truth? When is this fact-checking mission going to happen?” I keep up the flirty banter as I prep his wrist.

“At your earliest convenience.”

I glance at him, happy to see his focus on my face and not what I’m doing, so I proceed by applying the stencil. “I bet you’re one of those disgustingly chipper morning people,” I say.

“I am. What gave me away?”

“Your sunny disposition.”

He snorts. “Sunny disposition? That’s new.”

“If the shoe fits…”

“Well,” he lowers his voice until it’s a mere rumble. “Maybe that’s a good thing. This means I can be in charge of making your coffee in the mornings and you can take care of me when I fall asleep on our couch in the evenings. We’ll both benefit from our differences.”

I chuckle. “Have we moved in together before we’ve even been on a first date?”

“I don’t know. Are you planning to take me out on a date?”

Looking up, I meet his gaze. Two spots of bright red are painted on his cheeks—as though I’ve dipped my brush in crimson and swiped it on his face—deepening and enhancing his freckles, making him more irresistible than ever. The tension still lingers in his shoulder, but other than that, his body is open and honest.

“Would you let me paint you?” I blurt.

“Not if you’re a Picasso kind of painter. I don’t want to end up with a nose on my forehead.”

I throw my head back and laugh and soon his laughter mixes with mine. It’s as deep and melodious as his speaking voice and it makes me grateful that I’m sitting or my knees would buckle underneath me.